


Fortunate mistakes

by clarkeblakegriffin



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Unresolved Sexual Tension, i'll add tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkeblakegriffin/pseuds/clarkeblakegriffin
Summary: In the ark we grew up knowing that, back on Earth (before the whole apocalyptic situation), soulmates where just an idea, a way to describe what you felt when the four-letter word just wasn't enough. But in the ark, soulmates became a much more real phenomenon.





	1. Chapter 1

In the ark we grew up knowing that, back on Earth (before the whole apocalyptic situation), soulmates where just an idea, a way to describe what you felt when the four-letter word just wasn't enough. But in the ark, soulmates became a much more real phenomenon. 

You see, with the limited supplies and the pressing need to ensure the survival of the species, it was considered a waste of resources and space for people to not have the one child a couple was supposed to have. So back in the early days, the council had an idea that -with some help from the genetic engineers in the ark- made soulmates a realistic expectation.

By altering the genetic code of every child while they were still in their mother's womb, they implanted soulmates into the system randomly. These children, sometime after turning eighteen, would receive a mark somewhere in their skin, sometimes large, sometimes almost imperceptible, but always the perfect match to someone else's.

The presence of a chip determined which mark you got, since the random pairing of teenagers with reproductive purposes was considered useless and chaotic, and it was necessary for the couple to be compatible in every sense of the word. This chip, implanted in the unborn baby, started gathering genetic and behavioral information from birth. When the carrier turned eighteen, the chip would start to search for someone with characteristics deemed 'compatible'. This way it would assign a partner -a soulmate- taking into consideration properties such as age, character, hobbies or sexual orientation.

It was the government’s way to create a system that would ensure no odd numbers and would certify that the number of children born each generation was exactly half of the children born in the previous generation, and so on until the Earth became, once again, survivable. Of course, one immediately notices that if the population keeps halving, someday there will be no one left to go back 'home', but the plan was never meant to last forever, just like the Ark's supplies where not inexhaustible. This system was perfect, flawless, unbreakable - or so they thought.

The thing about making technology take any form of human thinking is that it does so without the actual humanity that is supposed to go into these actions. Initially, the chip presented– once again- perfect results, where every pairing turned out to be compatible physically and emotionally. My mom's generation was the first to try it. She met my dad through some other privileged kid- this is mostly the way we met people in the ark- and instantly liked him. She was seventeen at the time, and even though he was nineteen, he didn't have any mark yet, as if waiting for his soulmate to find him.  
They started dating, unsure of whether they would turn out to be 'the one' to each other, but too enamored to refuse trying. I've always believed that they would have stayed together had they not been each other's soulmates, but knowing Abby as I do know, I know she is too fond of rules (I mean she got him floated after all) to refuse to follow them. Anyway, the very same day my mom turned eighteen, they both discovered a coin-sized circle on the back of the other's neck and decided to get married only a month after that.

I guess they (being one of the first soulmate couples to ever be created) were also one of the exceptions, because soon everything went to hell.  
It was soon proved that the chips that had been our hope of survival were, in fact, imperfect and flawed, as they started pairing unlikely couples that were much too different to work.  
Most of the participants of these ''broken-chip relationships'' became miserable, since the unwavering belief in science they possessed forced them into relationships -marriage- with people they didn't feel that connection with.  
Some of this couples suffered though years of trying to fix unfixable relationships, and soon the chips were deemed unsuccessful, and therefore after four years since the first kids implanted became eighteen, the council decided to stop implanting them. That is the reason why I, Clarke Griffin, born eight years after my parents got married (when my mom was twenty-seven), never got one.

Twenty years after the first baby was born with no implant again, it was discovered that even without the chips, the genetic alteration remained in some of the children born from chip-implanted parents, after a recently turned eighteen-year-old got a large mark in her face that streched from her temple to her chin. Marks like this were not uncommon, since children had been implanted for the better part of twenty-two years, meaning a large variety of marks had been seen in obvious places like hands, arms, faces or necks, where they were visible for anyone to see. At first these people had it easy, since finding their soulmates was just a matter of a light search of someone's features, but as soon as the chips were deemed inaccurate these marks were hard to hide when you didn't want whoever shared it to find you in fear of feeling that unwanted pressure of conformity. But people managed. 

Well, that was until the council decided to send 100 of us "young delinquents" down to Earth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thing, the italized parts are Clarke's thoughts. Thanks for reading! <3

Here in the dropship camp everything is different. No one seems to care about romantic feelings, but there never goes a day without me thanking whoever is up there for the IUDs the ark implanted on everyone. God knows the _last_ thing I need right now is a pregnant seventeen-year-old. Don't get me wrong, I know babies are a blessing, but I don't necessarily want to assist a birth when I'm barely getting by with broken bones and stab wounds.

 

_Whoever decides drinking Monty's moonshine before getting to work on the wall is a good idea deserves having to get a couple of stitches, maybe if they realize this it will be easier keeping this idiots alive._

 

The thing is, no one really cares about the whole 'finding The One' dilemma down here. Everyone just seems to apply the "whatever the hell we want" policy to sex too ( _that sentence is such a pain in my ass, Blake_ ). So yeah, this whole soulmate shit went down the drain as soon as we landed. Then the whole Finn situation happened. We only slept together once, but I meant it when I said I wanted it to be him, not just anyone else in this camp ( _yes, I'm aware there are murderers and rapists in this camp, so no thanks_ ).

In hindsight, I realize that what I felt for him was not very strong at all, but in the moment, I thought I was sincerely falling for him, with his unsuspecting goodness and peaceful nature.

 

 _Guess I was wrong_.

  
And yes, it hurt when Raven landed and the first thing she did was kiss the guy I was starting to fall for, but if he really was _it_ , shouldn't losing him break me? I'm no expert in love, but it must have been something else if I got over it as easily as I did. Now I'm just worried about Raven, fearing Finn will do something stupid (like deciding he prefers me when I've blatantly proved him again and again that I don't reciprocate his feelings anymore) and break the genius brunette's heart in a single blow.

 

So that's it, I'm out for a while in the whole feelings and sex department, at least for now. And I'm too busy for any of it anyways, no matter how nagging Octavia gets, with her "maybe you should talk to Peter, I think he likes you" and "I've heard Roma is also into girls, if you just want to get laid" comments and her snarky attitude. Speaking of the devil…

 

"Hey Clarke," She says as she drags one of the younger kids into the med bay. "Mark here sliced his hand with a knife trying to skin that wild boar the hunting party brought in yesterday."

 

I sigh, getting the needle and thread from my diminished supply kit and asking Harper to get some more bandages from the upper level of the dropship "Okay," I tell the scared kid. "why don't you seat on the table, I'll be there in a minute."

 

I turn to Octavia, sending her an exasperated look "These kids really need to learn how to manage a knife, I don't know how to sew a finger if any of them loses one."

 

Octavia snorts, looking as sarcastic as ever. "Yeah, like teaching them would avoid them drinking too much of Monty's moonshine and being hungover asses in the morning. Speaking of which, my dear brother wants to talk to you as soon as you're done". She turns around and starts to get out of the dropship, humming a grounder beat Lincoln must've taught her in one of their not-so-secret encounters.

 

I roll my eyes as I grab a bottle of moonshine from the shelf before turning towards the kid on the table -Mark, is it? – and get ready to sew his three-inch-long cut. "This might sting."

 

* * *

 

It is only after tending to three more kids that I go searching for Bellamy, he'll probably be mad but I can't bring myself to care. ( _Besides, maybe I kinda like arguing with him_ ). He doesn't seem to be around the dropship area, so I head to the camp gates, wondering what the hell he wants to fight about. He isn’t here either so I ask the next best person.

 

"Miller!"

 

"Hey Doc" He smiles- I like Nate, he's a decent guy ( _What was he arrested for, again? I think it was something minor – definitely not the worse in this camp_ ). I smile back.

 

"Have you seen Bellamy?"

 

"I think he went back to his tent" He gives me a weird look, almost like he is thinking about not telling me- "Think he was with someone though."

 

I roll my eyes ( _is it impossible for Bellamy to keep it in his pants for a couple of hours? – He's the one who wanted to talk to me after all_ ) and thank Nathan, turning in the direction of his tent.

 

I listen for a second before I go in, I don't give a damn about barging in, he's probably used to it anyways, but I don't want to find him in the middle of whatever he is doing with his new girl-toy.

 

A tall and slim girl – Cecily? Celine? – covers herself with a blanket as I come in, but I have things to do and I'm not in the mood for this.

 

"Get out."

 

She huffs (clearly annoyed) and gathers her clothes before leaving, while Bellamy smirks from the other side of his makeshift bed "Well hello to you too, princess.”

 

I try not to look at his dark-skinned abs as he stands up (clad in only his boxers) and starts to pull his pants on.

 

"Seriously Bellamy you were the one who wanted to talk, so get it over with, I have things to do."

 

His faces makes that arrogant smirk "Chill princess, your hair will turn gray in two months at this rate"

 

 _(Is he fucking kidding me?)_ Frustration and anger fills me ( _and who the fuck gets dressed and doesn't pull a shirt on? It's freezing outside for God's sake_ ) "Okay, if you don't wanna talk, I'm leaving".

 

I turn around and make my way to the flap of the tent, but he catches my wrist before I have a chance to leave and spins me around to face him. We come nose to nose and his breath sends a shiver up my spine. He catches it and his eyes flick to my lips ( _shit_ ). "Come on princess, don't get mad, just teasing" His smirk fades and his eyes harden "We have to think about how to stop the grounders when they come."

 

With the change in his tone my frown deepens and I sigh, knowing he’s right. But as much as the grouder situation worries me, I can't help but feel grateful that he wants to talk, because I know it means he trusts me, probably more than anybody else in this camp.

Our dynamic changed after we came back from the bunker, our conversation under that tree after Dax tried to kill us mended some bridges between us.

 

It's no longer Bellamy, king of camp and Clarke his royal pain in the ass, but more like Clarke and Bellamy, leaders of the 100 ( _no wonder the kids started calling us Mom and Dad, we_ do _protect and care about them together_ ).

 

It is a whole new world with Bellamy, and we still fight on a daily basis, but now we discuss the camp matters together, and I like to think he values my opinion as much as I value his.

 

"I'm increasing the guard shifts for everyone, especially for the kids who have good aim. A guard who can’t shoot is as useful as a tree."

 

He’s right, but I'm more concerned about keeping these teenagers alive if ( _or when_ ) they get wounded, and I have a feeling that I will have to perform several surgeries in the upcoming weeks.

 

"I need to gather more medical supplies, seaweed, clean water from that stream we found and some plants Monty found that could have antibiotic properties" I state, in a bussiness-like tone ( _but fuck, is it such a pain for him to wear shirt?_ ) and he lifts a hand to his unruly hair, making the muscles on his arm ripple.

 

I groan internally ( _Clarke, get your shit together, it's Bellamy-ass-Blake we're talking about_ ). "I'm leading a foraging party this afternoon to collect as much as I can before the storm hits."

 

His face turns hard and his eyes get that glint that they usually gets when he's arguing with Octavia or me. "No way princess, there is no way in hell I'm letting anyone out of this camp with a grounder army lurking at our gates."

 

My fists clench, and I feel like we’re about to engage in an argument that will end in one of those yelling matches that scare the shit out of half of the camp and keeps the other half away from this tent for hours. "Bellamy we need those supplies and you know it, and you know I'm going even if I have to-"

 

“No way in hell, Princess. I said no one’s getting out and it’s final.”

 

“You are not the fucking boss of me Blake! I don’t care what you think, but I’m NOT letting these kids die when I can do something about it!”

 

I can feel the blood on my face as I yell at him, and I realize I’m only a step away from him, having stepped towards him during my rant. His fists are clenched and his jaw ( _that damned perfect jaw- where the fuck did that come from?!_ ) is clamped so tight it looks like he’s about to pop a vein. He doesn’t answer, both our breathings labored as we drill each other’s eyes, the argument now a silent contest of glares. We hold the scowls, our bodies tense with rage and  heated due to our close proximity until, finally, his eyes flick downwards- towards my lips- and he lets out a deep breath.

 

“I’m not letting you get killed by leaving camp, Clarke. We’ll find another way to keep them safe” he states, and he turns around and walks away, leaving me alone in his tent.

 

_What the fuck was that?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Clarke's thoughts are in italics

The next morning I wake up at dawn and pack a bag with enough rations to last a couple of days. I should be able to make the trip to the river and back in one day, but from what we’ve seen so far I’d rather be ready if I have to spend a night outside. My plan is to slip out of the gates early in the morning, during the change in guard, because today Murphy is on watch duty and I’m sure he’ll be late. Bellamy’s gonna be pissed, but I’m not about to let any of this kids die because of a small infected cut. If he can’t deal with that then it’s on him. 

 

I grab one of the rifles, two knives, a couple water bottles and some bandages, making sure I still have room in my pack for the seaweed I’m planning to bring back. I’ve spent the night wondering if I should ask someone to come with me, but with the fear Bellamy has imposed on these kids, the only ones who wouldn’t tell him are Raven and Octavia. Octavia is obviously a no, since I don’t really want Bellamy to kill me, and things are too weird with Raven after the  _ Finncident.  _ So after I make sure I have everything I need, I slip out of my tent and head to the gates. 

 

I make sure to give a wide range to Bellamy’s larger tent ( _ of course the ‘king’ would put his tent right in the middle of camp, and they call  _ me _ royalty _ ) and let a sound of relief when I don’t hear a sound coming from it. I turn again towards the gates and freeze. 

 

He’s sitting on a rock right next to the gate, his rifle slung over his left shoulder and that fucking  _ awful _ smirk directed at me.

 

“Going somewhere princess?” His voice is rough, as if he just woke up, but his posture suggests he’s been on that rock all night long.

 

_ Fuck, am I that predictable?  _ “Just going for a morning walk” I answer casually and straighten my spine as I walk into the forest. 

 

“Fuck-” he grumbles, and he rushes after me “I told you you’re not going anywhere.” 

 

He grabs my arms, and I immediately yank it out of his grasp, turning away and continuing in the direction of the river. 

 

“Dammit Clarke it’s dangerous out there, get the fuck inside the wall!”

 

I spin on my heel and he crashes into me, almost pushing me to the ground with the force of the impact “I’m going to the river Bellamy, you can come with me or you can stay, I really don’t give a fuck as long as I get that damned seaweed.”

 

His eyes spark and he suddenly turns around and jogs back to the gates, returning a second later with a pack slung over his right shoulder. He smirks and says “Then lead the way princess”.

 

_ Of course he would do something like this, I should have gone last night, but I’m not a fan of walking around the forest at night. _

 

I turn around without saying anything, to spite him, and stomp through the forest, trying to ignore his light footsteps behind me.

 

* * *

 

It has been two hours of walking when I cave in and break the silence: “Why did you have a backpack ready if you wanted me to stay in camp?”

 

I catch a small smile in his face before he turns his face towards the trees. When he faces me again, his usual arrogant smirk is back, and I wonder if I’m just imagining things now. “You forget Octavia’s my sister, Princess. Let’s just say I’m used to handling stubborn women. I figured if I couldn’t stop you from leaving I could at least come with.”

 

I try to hide the surprise in my face, but he sees my expression before I can bury it under a mask of indifference. Both his face and tone soften. “I don’t want you to die Clarke, is it so hard to understand?”

 

I don’t answer immediately and just like me, it takes a second too long for him to look away and…  _ is that hurt?  _

 

_ This man is gonna drive me crazy. _

 

“No, it’s not” I acquiesce.

 

We lapse back into silence, and I try my best to push the mysterious headache that  is Bellamy Blake out of my head.  _ I should try to figure out the date, that always keeps me busy. _

 

It’s true, it’s been hard to know what day it is ever since I was locked in the sky box. After a while I started thinking of time as ‘before dad’ and ‘after dad’. It was easier, since my life changed so much after his death. But now it has taken a radical turn again, and in this mess I’d rather know the day it is than try to create more ‘before and afters’ in my head. 

 

It takes me a while to realize it is already October, and even longer to figure out that there’s only one week left until my birthday. The realization strucks me and I stop on my tracks. Bellamy immediately rises his gun. “What is it? Did you hear anything?” I don’t answer, thoughts running a mile a minute through my shocked brain. “Clarke?”

 

He steps towards me and it’s his proximity that breaks me out of my reverie. “N-nothing, I-” I take a deep breath, not daring to face him- to let him see how vulnerable I am right now. “It’s nothing, let’s keep going.”

 

It’s clear on his face that he wants to argue, but I guess it’s the apprehension in my eyes that makes him take a step back and nod almost imperceptibly. I start walking again and he follows, but now my brain won’t shut up and the silence between us feels more stifling and awkward.

 

* * *

 

 

One more silent hour and we finally reach the section of the river where the medicinal seaweed grows, the sun beating hard on us as the day goes by. 

 

As soon as we reach the river, I wade in knee-deep and start collecting the algae with both my hands. The faster I do it, the sooner we’ll be able to get back to camp. _ Then I can hide in the dropship- away from him, away from everyone. _

 

It takes me ten minutes to gather as much as I can, ten minutes Bellamy spends with his gun raised and his eyes fixed on the forest. My brain is still going through my earlier realizations, which means I’m not in the mood for chatter, so I get out of the river and stand next to him until he notices me. 

 

“Let’s go back.” His only answer is a curt nod, his face indecipherable as he turns and walks back into the tree line. I’m just about to follow him when the sound of a horn startles me. Fear seeps into my bones as Bellamy reappears next to me- we both know what the sound means. 

 

_ Acid fog _

 

He grabs my pack from the ground with panicked eyes and pushes me, startling me out of the shock - “Dammit Clarke, run!”

 

We both start running and, now that it’s awake, it doesn’t take long for my brain to slip into survival mode. “We can’t outrun it, we need a place to hide!” The adrenaline seeps into  my body and a single thought snaps like thunder in my head. 

 

_ The car. _

 

“I know where to go” I yell, and start in the direction of the half buried car Wells, Finn and I found last time, hoping I can find it in the haze of our sprint.

 

We run for what feels like hours, but is probably less than ten minutes, my eyes searching for the hidden metal scrap that will save us from a certain death. 

 

I can’t find it, and I would’ve sworn it was right here, but I’m starting to lose hope and the fog is catching up on us, a death wave marching between the towering trees. 

 

We keep running, frantically searching for anything now, anything that will keep us away from the toxic gas. I’ve almost given hope up and started to slow down when my foot catches on something, and my body crashes against the ground- 

 

_ This is it- after everything this is how I’m going to die. _

 

-only to realize it’s not soft forest grass I’ve landed on, but a crusty red metal slab. 

 

I look down and see the car’s interior through the dirty glass, and I scramble to my feet. “Bellamy! Come on!”. He rushes to my side and yanks the door open, both of us jumping inside just as the fog reaches the hole. 

 

He slams the door closed over us, and the only sound in the darkness of the long gone vehicle is that of our labored breaths, with a couple of occasional coughs. 

 

It takes a while for us to calm down, and it’s only after five minutes that I look into his eyes- only to find him silently watching me, his face giving nothing away.

 

“Looks like we’re stuck here for a while, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the new chapter! I know they didn't interact much, but next chapter is going to have much more dialogue (hopefuly) and I'll try to post it ASAP. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

“Dammit Clarke,  _ I told you _ it was fucking dangerous to come!” Bellamy shouts, filling the space between us with blinding rage. “We almost  _ died _ out there! But of course the princess had to get her fucking way. Is that what you want? To leave all of those kids in camp without a fucking leader?? Who do you think would keep them alive, huh? Finn? Jasper? Or better yet, Murphy? Do you have a fucking  _ suicide wish _ ?”

 

By now my anger has reached scorching levels.  _ Who the fuck does he think he is?  _ My clenched fists start hurting from where the nails are digging into my skin, and my body is trembling in rage. 

 

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing?? I’m making sure we HAVE kids left to protect! Without the seaweed they will die as soon as they get a tiny cut from those damned rusty knives. Knives YOU are supposed to teach them how to use. Do you think I  _ want  _ to risk my life? I spend my fucking day making sure they stay alive, so don’t you dare tell me I’m leaving those kids to fend for themselves. And don’t forget  _ you _ were the one who wanted to leave after all.”

 

I know I shouldn’t have said it as soon as the words leave my mouth.His face hardens, and I can see how he puts the walls up again, the walls he had when we first came down to Earth. The walls I only broke down a couple of days ago when I told him I need him after Dax tried to kill us. I don’t even believe what I just said, and I know how hard it is for him, but I’m so fucking  _ tired _ of everyone thinking I’m a stuck-up princess who only cares for herself. Still, I didn’t mean that, and the last thing I want is for him to think that I do.

 

“Dammit Bellamy, I didn’t mean that.” But it does nothing to unclench his jaw, and I can feel him as closed off as ever. 

 

“I’m sure you didn’t Princess.” 

 

I sigh from my place against the car’s roof, knowing he’s shut me out. “Let’s just get through this okay? We’re gonna be here all night and I want to catch some sleep before we go back tomorrow.”

 

He doesn’t answer, so I sigh again and turn away from him, letting a deafening silence settle between us and hoping I’ll be able to fall asleep, if only to make time go by faster. 

 

* * *

 

 

It takes me a while to accept I won’t be sleeping tonight, and suddenly all of the memories of the last time I was here flood my brain. My breath cuts short. 

 

_ Wells. _

 

The last time we were here was the day he died, and all of a sudden the only thing I can remember is how cruel I was to him inside this car, how I hated him when he was only trying to protect me. I’m starting to feel like the metal walls are closing in on me, my chest getting tighter as tears start welling in my eyes. 

 

_ He didn’t deserve it, and I treated him like shit. Fuck, I was so stupid. _

 

Suddenly I feel arms come around me and I am surprised to see Bellamy next to me. His eyes are soft, all traces of fury gone, and I turn into his chest as sobs wreck my body. 

 

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you. I got you, it’s okay.” 

 

His whispers are like a soothing balm, his lips soft as they brush against my hair, and I sink further into him, letting my tears drench his jacket. 

 

I don’t know how long it takes until my sobs start to fade and my breathing calms down enough for me to realize that I’m still clinging to his frame. His arms are around me, and his scent fills the almost nonexistent space between us, almost as soothing as his deep, low voice in my ear. “Wanna talk about it?”

 

“N-no. It’s just-” my voice cracks, and I feel his arms tighten around me, letting me know he’s there for me in that unique unspoken language we always communicate with. “ _ Wells _ ” I clarify, but I see confusion flick through his eyes. 

 

_ Of course. He doesn’t know the monster I was to my best friend in this very place, only hours before he was murdered. _

 

“We-” I start, wanting him to understand, not knowing how I can trust this man so much when I hated him not so long ago. “We hid here, the day Atom…” 

 

_ The day I took that knife from your hand and sank it into an innocent boy’s neck. _

 

He nods, a haunting look in his eyes.  _ I guess it weighs down in both our consciences _ . “I was a bitch, I thought he was the one who turned my dad in- I was hurt- and I blamed him for everything. And now- now he’s d-dead and-” I start sobbing again and he tucks me deeper into his lap, his chin coming to rest on my head as he tries to soothe my pain. “-it’s my fault.” I finally get out, and it strikes me that I never realized this.

 

“It’s not, Clarke.” He sounds tired, much older than the twenty-something year-old he is.  _ Is it weird that I don’t even know his age? _ “You had nothing to do with Charlotte’s actions, if anything I was the one who told her to slay her demons.”

 

I face him, to make sure he sees my eyes, so he knows I mean this. “It wasn’t your fault, Bellamy. Charlotte was wrong, and killing Wells was the worst thing she could’ve done.”

 

We fall again into silence, both of us wallowing in our guilt and the weight of our past mistakes. It takes him a while to speak again, but he keeps his arms around me, his hand mindlessly caressing my hair. I’m too deep in thought to think anything about it anyways.

 

“Is that what you were thinking about this morning?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“When we were walking and you froze in the middle of nowhere.”

 

_ Shit, I had hoped he didn’t notice _ .  _ What do I have to lose anyway? _

 

“No, I just- I realized next week is my birthday” I try to brush off.

 

“The Princess wants a party?” he asks lightly, and this time it doesn’t sound like and insult, more like he’s trying not to push me, but I can hear the curiosity underneath his teasing. 

 

It is his attempt to make me feel better that makes me admit it. “I would’ve been floated next week. If we were back at the ark, I mean.”

 

He freezes, and his arms hold me tighter. “You don’t know that for sure, Clarke.”

 

“Of course I know that for sure. What do you think they were gonna do, let me back out so that I could tell everyone the reason why my father got killed?” I huff. “It doesn’t matter, I guess. It’s the- the Wells thing again. I thought he was the one who betrayed us, but it was my mother who had my dad floated, who put me into solitary just so I could be floated less than a year later.”

 

“I know, Princess, but you’re not on the ark, not anymore. You can’t let the past or the ‘would have’s fuck you up now, you have to focus on living, on surviving. And if your mom  _ does _ come down, then you can tell her everything you need her to know. Whether it is that you don’t want her in your life anymore or that you’re trying to forgive her. But don’t suffer needlessly over something that’s in the past or something you cannot fix, Clarke. It will only drive you crazy” he states.

 

“Thanks, Bell” 

 

_ Bell? Where the fuck did that come from?? _ He looks as surprised by the nickname as I am. He nods curtly, and we lapse once again into silence, my body tucked into his side and my head on his shoulder.

 

“So eighteen, huh? You expecting a ton of gifts? Because I’m pretty sure nothing down here is up to royal standards” he comments, his tone light once again.

 

“Not really expecting anything at all. Well, not getting killed would be nice” I snort. He laughs silently at this, but I feel it rumble through his chest, and it makes a warm feeling spread inside of me.

 

“So you’re not waiting for your soulmate? Your better half? The prince to your princess?” His tone is still light, but it now holds an undercurrent of something I can’t identify.

 

“Definitely not.” I state. “I used to believe in soulmates, you know? My mom and dad were the foolproof example of perfect soulmates- or so I thought. He was helplessly in love with her, and she was much more -human, I guess?- when he was around. They balanced each other out. But now? After knowing what she did I don’t think those marks have anything to do with love.”

 

He seems to understand my logic ( _ of course he does, he’s basically the only one who comes close to understanding me _ ) and he thinks it through before answering a bit shyly, as if he’s not sure if he should be sharing anything with me at all.

 

“I’ve never believed in soulmates anyway. My mom- she fell in love with her soulmate, my father, but he left her for another woman as soon as he heard she was pregnant, soulmate mark be damned.” I must look as confused as I feel, because he continues after a glance down at me. “O’s dad was someone else, I never knew him.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever believe in soulmates again.”

 

“Do you think you’ll get one?”

 

“I don’t know. The statistics are what? A 90% of the children of soulmates get a mark? I guess I’ll probably get one, but it’s not like I’m going to do anything about it. Besides, everyone is back in the ark, what would the chance of my soulmate being one of the 100 be? I don’t want to date anyone regardless.” I ponder. “What about you?”

 

“Well princess, I’m twenty-two and I don’t have a mark yet, so I figure I won’t have one at all.”

 

I’m starting to feel the exhaustion of a full day of walking and running around, and I can’t help but blurt “It’s not like you’d need a soulmate mark to get a date anyways.”

 

My face turns a deep shade of red where it rests against his shoulder.  _ What the fuck is wrong with me?? Since when am I attracted to Bellamy BLAKE? _

 

“Aw, thanks, Princess” he says teasingly, and after a couple minutes of silence I start to drift off, my body pressed against his warm side in the cramped car.

 

Just as I’m about to succumb to exhaustion, I feel a featherlight touch of lips against my hair. 

  
_ Or maybe it was just a dream _ .


	5. Chapter 5

I wake up to the sound of chirping birds and a feeling of happiness I haven’t felt in a while. I’m pressed to something warm, a weigh around my waist keeping me out of the cold as I leave my nightmare-less sleep. I burrow into the warmth, trying to go back to sleep, and the weight tightens on my waist.  _ Wait _ . I look down and realize that it  _ is _ an arm that’s curled up around me. I freeze, starting to remember last night’s events.  _ Bellamy. The fog, the car.  _

 

_ Bellamy. _

 

I turn my head slightly from where I’m cradled against his chest, to find that his eyes are still closed, and I can feel his chest rising and falling against my back. I know I’ll wake him up if I move  and I really don’t want to start what is sure to be an awkward morning yet, so I rest my head again and close my eyes, thinking of last night. Of the way he held me when I broke down, of the way his physical presence calmed me. Of the way he soothed me with sweet words and a gentleness so unlike him, I’m still not sure wasn’t dreamt. If it weren’t for the fact that I'm still in his arms right now I would be sure it didn’t happen at all. But I  _ am _ in his arms, and he  _ did _ help me last night. And now he’s holding me like he never wants to let go. 

 

_ Stop it Clarke, you know this only lasts until he wakes up.  _

 

That’s the thing, though. I don’t really know this Bellamy. He hides the way he really is, but I’ve known for a while he’s not the power-hungry, narcissistic rebel he acted as when we first landed. It’s like he’s slowly letting me see small pieces of his real self. I guess it started before I knew it, when I first realized everything he was doing was to protect his sister. Then came the night of the flares, the way he admitted he wouldn’t know what to wish for. How his rough fingers pried that make-shift torture instrument from my numb hand after the whole Lincoln debacle. 

 

Before last night, the most he’d shown of himself was that night under the tree where Dax attacked us. The image of his beaten face and the terror in his eyes when he finally broke down still haunts me, creeping into my thoughts in the quiet of the night. 

 

But last night? Last night was the first time he showed gentleness, and it has thrown me off. I think even when I knew he wasn’t the asshole I thought he was, I still didn’t have a clear picture of him. 

 

Dawn has brought the real Bellamy Blake to my eyes. He is a caring man, whose unfortunate circumstances have made him create a closed-off, uncaring façade, the complete opposite of who he is shining through for those who don’t care enough to see past it. He’s not perfect. None of us are. What he’s done to keep his sister alive weighs on him, Atlas holding the world on his shoulders for eternity. 

 

And he makes me feel safe. I think this is the first night without nightmares I’ve had since before my dad was floated. Sleep in my cell was never soothing, memories of my father swirling in my dreams- which were often nightmares. Happy dreams were much worse, though. Because happy dreams were an illusion, and the crushing weight of dad’s death and my reality always settled down heavier when I woke up to the metal walls of my cell. 

 

And nightmares on Earth weren’t much better. I kept watching the dead die- Wells, Charlotte, even the two kids who died inside the dropship- but the worst was watching the living die. Watching these kids I’ve learnt to love die in front of my eyes every night, and waking up knowing it still might happen, that they were only alive for now. 

 

But in Bellamy’s arms I’ve found solace, and it scares me.

 

I don’t know how long I’ve spent thinking about Bellamy when he stirs. His arm tightens again around me and I close my eyes and feign sleep. 

 

I know exactly when he realizes it’s me in his arms, because his whole body freezes against mine. I was expecting that. What I wasn’t expecting is for him to relax back against me seconds later, nuzzling his nose into my hair. 

 

_ Wait what? _

 

We spend a while lying together, until he carefully disentangles his body from mine and reaches for his pack. A couple minutes later I slowly open my eyes and start stretching my body. Only now I register that my neck hurts and my legs are numb from sleeping on the rough metal fo the car. 

 

_ Guess you were too busy thinking about him before.  _

 

_ Shut up.  _

 

_ Great, now I’m having a conversation with myself. Get it together Griffin. _

 

“Good morning Princess. Breakfast?” His voice is rough from sleep, and it seeps into my bones. “Sorry we don’t have any caviar just yet” he smirks. 

 

_ Just great, guess I get asshole Bellamy today. This man is gonna give me whiplash. And here I was idealizing him two minutes ago. _

 

“Ha ha” I deadpan, not wanting him to know what I was thinking about. “Just hurry up, I wanna get to camp as soon as possible.”

 

We have breakfast in silence, and it carries into packing our bags and getting out of the car. He offers his hand to help me out of the metal trap, but I’m too proud for that- especially after showing him my weakness last night- so I climb out by myself. He chuckles, but gestures towards the forest.

 

“After you, your Highness.”

 

I huff and start walking towards camp, last night’s events all but forgotten as we slip back into silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the short chapter. I'm in the middle of tests and I'm also a bit stuck with this part of the story, bc I know where I want to take it but I'm trying to figure out the in-between. Thanks for your patience and support, I hope to post the next one soon <3 Sorry for the lack of action too, I'm trying to convey what Clarke feels, and I needed it to be clear.
> 
> Anyways, any constructive criticism on my writing is appreciated, it's my first fic after all :)


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